


An Attempt at Seduction (or "That Little Black Dress")

by lawand_disorder



Category: Good Witch (TV)
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28632306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lawand_disorder/pseuds/lawand_disorder
Summary: Cassie/Sam. Cassie decides to surprise Sam by putting on the little black dress she wore to the Heritage Ball - just for him.
Relationships: Cassie Nightingale/Sam Radford
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	An Attempt at Seduction (or "That Little Black Dress")

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as the unofficial sequel to A Natural Remedy back in November, and left it gathering dust in a folder. Recently I hauled it back out again, shipped it off to xfphile (who did a wonderful beta job as always - thank you!) and here we are. I hope you enjoy it, it is a rated M for a reason!

It had taken Cassie several weeks to process what her amazing husband had done for her. She hadn't been able to tell anyone about it either, which was sort of killing her. Stephanie and Abigail had hinted on more than one occasion that they'd be more than happy to hear any details Cassie was willing to share about her intimate life with Sam. The sheer chemistry the two of them had would make anyone curious. But Middleton was a typical small town, and Sam was still a private man. As much as she trusted both women (despite both of them having a tendency to not be able to keep a secret), she didn't want to risk the whole town finding out lurid details about her marriage to Sam. Especially not when he had been so damn good to her. It was really time to think about paying him back for that delicious encounter.

It wasn't that they hadn't made love since then; oh no it was quite the opposite. Cassie flushed a little, her hand moving to the slightly raw skin at the side of her neck where Sam had nuzzled her a little over-zealously that morning, his stubble chafing her neck and reminding her of his ardour.

Not that she was complaining. There were certainly worse ways to be woken up than with some gentle, tender good-morning sex. Just another side benefit of having Grey House mostly to themselves.

The first step in what she wasn't quite ready to start calling a plan just yet was making sure that the dress in question still fit her. Sam was on a call out at a patient's home when Cassie decided to bite the bullet, sliding hangers aside and taking out the dress she had worn to the Heritage Ball. She hung it up on the outside of her closet door and stood back, tilting her head to study the dress. It was kind of perfect, she thought. No wonder Sam had enjoyed seeing her in it so much… until he had seen her kiss Ryan.

She trailed her fingers over the fabric, the lace overlay feeling soft and sensual under her fingertips. The neckline was just on the polite side of plunging, and dipped equally low in the back. Cassie vividly remembered standing in front of her mirror, assessing her reflection from all sides on the afternoon before the Heritage Ball. Even Grace had picked up on her anxiety, delivering words of wisdom beyond her teenage years. Ryan's reaction, and later learning of Sam's tongue-swallowing response, had proved her concerns had been correct. Cassie herself could not have foreseen that the dress would be playing an important role all these years later as part of her married life.

Deciding she had dithered long enough, Cassie started to unbutton her pants, shucking off the comfort of jeans and a cashmere sweater for the glamour of the little black dress. She turned in front of the mirror, critically examining her appearance. If anything, the dress looked better than it had on the night of the ball.

If Cassie had been making a plan, which she absolutely was not going to confirm nor deny, she would have checked the first item off her to-do list.

The second item on that to-do list, if such a thing existed of course, was to check the calendar to see when Grey House would be free of bookings and George would be away on one of his horticultural conventions, or visiting friends. It was usually Sam who took charge in their intimate life; she was rarely the one to initiate anything but the idea of seducing him thrilled her. She idly rubbed her hand over her belly, feeling a coil of tension there as she imagined Sam's face when he saw her in that dress again, knowing that this time she was wearing it just for him. He would be the only man she kissed that night, and for the rest of her life.

* * *

Sam was still enjoying his memories of that night with Cassie. It seemed like their relationship was evolving all the time, and that was something that pleased him after a year of marriage. Things with Linda had started heading south long before their first anniversary if he was being completely honest. But Cassie was not Linda, and his second marriage was nothing like the first, though he hadn't expected things to continue to get even better between them. Every time he changed into his scrubs in the locker room at Hillcrest he was reminded that their marriage, and his wife, still had the capacity to surprise him.

After that passionate encounter three weeks ago, Cassie had laundered the scrubs for him but he hadn't been able to wear them since. They were folded in the back of his underwear drawer, and they brought a smile to his face whenever he took out a clean pair of pyjamas. He was still holding onto the hope that Cassie might fancy a repeat prescription from his private medical practice and he left the hospital with a spring in his step, hoping that he and Cassie would have Grey House mostly to themselves that evening. He could definitely be persuaded to get those scrubs out from the back of his drawer

He was so keen to see her that he burst into Grey House, dropping his medical bag just inside the front door. A delicious smell was wafting through the house, so he followed it, knowing it would lead him to his wife. He would often find her in the kitchen, with something fantastic simmering on the stovetop. If sometimes the chicken wasn't chicken or the pasta was gluten free, he'd never complain. Normally, though, Cassie would either be wearing whichever outfit she'd worn to the Bell, Book, and Candle or the jeans and shirt she'd changed into when she got home.

What Sam was not prepared for was the sight of his wife, his wonderful, gorgeous, irrepressible wife, cooking dinner wearing _that black dress_. The very dress she had worn to the Heritage Ball just after he and Nick had moved to Middleton. It had floored him then, but now...

Well, he hadn't exaggerated when he told Cassie it had nearly made him swallow his tongue because right now, he could not have formed a coherent sentence if his life depended on it.

Cassie, who was well aware that her husband had arrived, did not greet him with her usual "Hello Sam" before he had even crossed the threshold into the kitchen. No, as much as it pained her, she focused on stirring the bubbling pot on the stovetop. She gripped the wooden spoon tighter, her knuckles white around the handle as she fought the urge to watch him watch her.

She wondered if this was how he had felt, dressed in his scrubs and waiting for her to come home. The anticipation was electric, but it was also killing her.

"Cassie, you—you're wearing the dress..." he finally said, stating the obvious but completely unable to be clever right now.

She carefully tapped off the excess sauce and placed the wooden spoon on its holder before slowly turning to face him, her heart rate accelerating before she had even locked eyes with him.

"Cassie," his whispered, his voice hardly more than a sigh. "You look..."

His memory had definitely failed him. There was no way she had looked this good on the night of the Heritage Ball. He knew that because if she had, the only way that night would have ended was with him kissing her.

That weasel Ryan Elliott wouldn't have stood a chance.

It really was the perfect dress for her. It highlighted all of the physical features he loved the most - the long line of her back, a hint of her gorgeous breasts, and an impressive view of her never-ending legs - while still being classy and dignified. If he hadn't been so fond of the dress, or of Cassie, he would have placed his hands in the 'v' of the neckline and _ripped_ until it came apart in his hands. But, knowing Cassie, it was probably some priceless vintage number, worn by someone famous, or even infamous

Plus, he really did want to see her wear it again. And again.

Their gazes had locked and the same fiery lust, mixed with that unconditional love for each other, shone in their eyes.

Sam pulled her to him, her arms going around his neck as his hands spanned her waist. She shivered in his embrace, pressing her body against his while his hands started to explore lower, sweeping over what really was an extremely delectable backside. Cassie moaned a little, so he did it again.

And again, because . . .

Oh, really?

Now, this was interesting.

"Cassie, sweetheart,

She only moaned in response, mostly because he was pressing his fingertips into her soft, supple flesh. The fabric of the dress was flimsy enough that she could feel his every caress.

"Yo-you're not we—Cassie, you aren't wearing any underwear," he stuttered, belatedly realising he was stating the obvious again. It wasn't his fault that his brain had effectively short-circuited.

Was this how Cassie had felt when she had come home to find him wearing his scrubs and in full-on "Doctor Radford" mode?

Oh, God.

He loved this woman.

"I don't remember you wearing anything under your scrubs either, Doctor Radford."

The punch of lust was so immediate that neither of them saw it coming until Sam had lifted Cassie onto the kitchen counter, her legs spread so that her dress had rucked up around her magnificent thighs.

Sam's nostrils flared as he scented her arousal in the air. They were not going to make it to dinner without him having her first. If he could make her come, possibly multiple times, while she was still wearing the dress, maybe he could finally exorcise the memory of Ryan kissing her while she wore it. That overwhelming urge to possess her reared its head again, but Sam pushed it down with a growl.

Cassie was dimly aware that she had planned to seduce him tonight. She wasn't exactly disappointed at how things were progressing, but he had a way of challenging her and throwing her off course that no one else had ever possessed.

"How likely is it..." he began, pausing between each word to kiss or suck on the exposed skin of her throat, neck, and décolletage. "That the whole house is going to burn down if we leave whatever smells so delicious to its own devices for five minutes?"

Cassie laughed, until he sank his teeth into a particularly sensitive spot.

Then she moaned, long and loud.

"Five minutes?"

She reached behind her, grabbed the tomato-shaped kitchen timer, and turned it until it was set for five minutes.

Sam, never one to back down from a challenge, gave her a slow, predatory smile, his eyes glinting dangerously.

Cassie held his gaze for one hot, electrifying second before closing her eyes in surrender. They had the whole evening ahead of them; there was still plenty of time for her to seduce him.

But nothing said she couldn't have both.

And . . . well, it was a good thing she'd replaced the batteries in the smoke detector last week.

* * *

Sam Radford was good under pressure. He had to be. He had treated patients in the field, in crowded emergency rooms, and completed long, arduous surgeries. He didn't feel under pressure now, but he did feel that same thrill. Plus, five minutes? He'd have her begging him to let her come a hell of a lot sooner than that.

As wonderful as dinner smelled, it was nothing compared to Cassie's intoxicating scent. He could have just breathed her in all day, especially when she made those little sounds in the back of her throat whenever his breath ghosted over her hot, damp, aroused flesh as he sank to his knees

She wrapped her legs around him, her ankles over his shoulders as his mouth feasted on her as if she was one of the most delicious gourmet meals she had ever prepared. Her fingers dug into the countertop until her knuckles went white, his lips and tongue sending her to another dimension. She closed her eyes as his tongue moved against her clit, warm and moist and insistent. He was bringing her to the edge already. It didn't matter than she couldn't see his face, she already knew there would be a smug, self-satisfied look plastered all over it.

"Sam!" she cried as she arched her spine, pressing her core against his face as she felt those flutters that told her she was right on the verge of reaching her peak. She released her grip on the countertop and slipped a hand around the nape of his neck, seeking just a little more contact, a little more friction.

He sucked hard on her clit, rubbing his tongue against her, and felt her let go for him. It didn't matter that he could barely breathe, or that he was wearing the evidence of her arousal on his chin. The timer hadn't gone off, dinner hadn't burned, and his revelation of a wife had just orgasmed so powerfully that he could actually see her legs shaking.

Sam Radford was feeling pretty damn proud of himself, especially when she wobbled a little as he helped her off the counter and went to set the table while she tended to the food.

* * *

They somehow made it through dinner without tearing each other's clothes off. The meal was delicious but it was hard (pun very much intended) for Sam not to look at Cassie in that dress. Especially since she now had the ruffled glow of a woman who had been well-loved. It didn't help him to know that little black dress was the only thing she was wearing.

She wouldn't have worn it without underwear for Ryan Elliott, he thought with savage pride.

When Cassie asked him if he wanted dessert, he just shook his head and beckoned her towards him, which had her lips curving in a knowing smile. The only thing he wanted was her. He patted his knee and she climbed up onto his lap, the dress riding up again.

Sam reached for her, palming her breasts through the fabric of her dress, and Cassie rocked a little against his thigh when his thumbs rubbed her nipples. The sensation of the lace material against those sensitive peaks was the perfect knife edge of pleasure and pain. Sam seemed to instinctively know that. He pulled her forward so he could lean down and suckle at her breast through the material, and the feeling of his hot, wet mouth combined with the rough lace against her sensitive nipple had Cassie throwing her head back and rocking against Sam's thigh again, letting out a soft cry at the sensation. The feeling of his soft wool pants against her bare sex was addictive.

Sam stopped was he was doing. There was something jaw dropping about watching Cassie try to chase her own pleasure. His cock was straining against his zipper, desperate for attention, but he wanted to experience this first before he even considered his own release.

"That's it, darling, come for me." His voice was rough and gravelly with arousal. "I can feel how wet you are." And that was true; she was starting to leave a damp patch on the material of his trousers.

Cassie choked on another cry. Her husband had a way with words, that was for sure. He could make anything sound sexy in that voice.

He held her hips as she rocked against him, chasing her second orgasm of the evening. As she began to buck against him, Sam reached for her breasts again, pinching her nipples through her dress.

She came with a scream, and it gave him another rush of pride to hear his name. After the minute it took her to catch her breath, she slumped across his body, the chair giving a creak that they both ignored. She wasn't even sure her bones were still solid anymore. But she could feel Sam hard against her, so aroused she could almost feel him throbbing.

He had already helped her to have two orgasms and she hadn't even touched him yet. And she was supposed to be the one seducing him. It was time to take back the reins, or at least try to.

Abandoning their plates and glasses for later, Cassie led Sam upstairs to their bedroom, where she had already turned down the bed ahead of the evening's activities. They were kissing voraciously as soon as the bedroom door was closed, Cassie making short work of the buttons on Sam's shirt. He finally felt he could exhale again once she had unbuckled his belt and opened his pants. As much as he wanted her hands on him, to stroke him to a hard and fast orgasm, he wasn't ready for this to be over and reluctantly placed his hands over hers before she could slide her fingers underneath the waistband of his underwear.

"What do you want Sam?" she asked, all wide-eyed innocence and a wicked grin.

He ran his tongue over his teeth, his lower lip. The look in his eyes was feral.

"I want to fuck you while you're wearing that dress."

Cassie shivered, her nipples hardening to sharp peaks beneath the aforementioned dress and her clit giving an answering throb.

They made it to the bed in a tangle of limbs, until Sam had manoeuvred Cassie onto her hands and knees. He pushed the dress up around her waist again, giving himself a moment to drool over her delicious backside, before pulling off his boxers and sighing at the sensation of finally being free of the restrictive fabric.

Cassie instinctively opened her legs wider, raising her butt and dropping her head and torso. Sam ran his hands over it adoringly before slipping his fingers into her tight, wet heat. She moaned as he withdrew them, only to cry out in pleasure when he replaced them with his cock, rubbing the tip through her folds and over her clit, making Cassie squirm and cry out.

He pushed in, just the tip, and could already feel Cassie tighten around him. She was so wet that he slid easily inside of her, only just able to hear the delicious, victorious moan she gave over the sound of the blood pounding in his ears. He didn't move, just stayed sheathed inside her, and took a moment, just a second, to breathe, or this would all be over much too quickly. He pushed her dress up further so he could place his hands on her sides for leverage and started to rock into her, the obscenely delicious noises of his cock slamming into her slick heat audible above the sounds of their gasps and sighs. Cassie was so tight around him that Sam had to use every shred of his control not to explode inside of her two strokes in.

The feral, possessive side of him wanted to pull out and spill his load over the back of that gorgeous dress, but he had to remind himself again it was more than likely a priceless vintage and he no longer needed to mark his territory. She was all his. They had the rings to prove it.

"I love you, Cassie," he rasped, his voice cracking with raw emotion.

"I love you, too," she breathed, her voice just as raw equally strained. Sam was keeping her right on the edge of shattering, and she could feel that his control wasn't going to last much longer. "Now, please come for me."

Sam moaned and began to move his hips again, feeling her tighten around him with every desperate, erratic thrust. He felt Cassie spasm and cry, his name echoing around the room, and he exultantly catapulted off that cliff behind her.

God, he loved her.

And he loved that sexy little black dress.

When they could both move again, he finally helped her out of it, smoothing his palms over her bare skin and relishing the feel of her under his hands. Her nipples were pink and puffy from his attentions through the rough lace of the dress, and he couldn't resist gently sucking them into his mouth to soothe the sting. Her breathy little moans suggested that perhaps Cassie wouldn't object to another round before the night was over.

Sam couldn't help the shit-eating grin on his face. He had already helped her to orgasm three times, and she still wanted him.

He had gotten lucky in every sense of the word.

They curled up in their bed, Sam pulling the covers around them.

"That was pretty spectacular," he stated with a grin, sated and smug. "Have I told you how lucky I am to be married to you?"

"You have," she purred in response, unable to resist smiling back at him. "But I'm happy to hear you say it again."

He pulled her closer so her head was resting on his chest and he could wrap his arms around her shoulders. As amazing as the evening had been, he couldn't help but feel that she was holding something back from him.

Had he pushed her too far? No, she would have told him, wouldn't she?

"Is everything okay, Cassie?"

She stroked her fingers over his chest.

"Yes, of course," she replied without hesitation. "It's just that...after everything you did for me, with your scrubs and...all that . . ." she trailed off and flushed a little; that memory still had the power to arouse and delight her. "I wanted to give something back."

"Oh honey, you certainly did." His laugh was a low rumble that she felt through their joined bodies.

Cassie worried her bottom lip between her teeth. After the developments between them in the bedroom, and out of it now, Cassie knew she shouldn't feel shy about expressing her desires or fantasies. Sam had already proved he was more than capable of, and willing to, make them a reality.

"I wanted to seduce you."

"But . . . you did," he told her, his brow furrowing in concern. "I certainly felt seduced when I found you in the kitchen wearing that dress, cooking me dinner, and not wearing any panties. That was like winning the lottery, but if you want to be in control," he drawled, raising an eyebrow lasciviously. "That's something we can arrange."

Cassie swallowed. Oh, now that was something to think about.

He cupped her face with his hands and kissed her, slow and sweet.

"Anything you want, Cass, you know I'm here for you."

She felt her eyes fill with tears, even as her lower body responded to Sam's proposition. A year into their marriage and he could still take her by surprise, something that was rare for a woman like Cassie Nightingale.

"I know. I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too."

He pulled her closer still, moulding his body around hers and drifting off to sleep, thinking that he was going to die a very happy man.

And, really, it would be a hell of a way to go.


End file.
